Land of the Engs
by Cyri's Alter Ego
Summary: America's been pondering something for quite a while, and he was wondering... Well, what the hell's an Eng?


_****_**********As a Brit myself, this idea just amused me. Being that it's Hetalia, I hope everyone knows that I mean no offence to Americans, Britons, Germans, Italians, Poles, Russians, Lithuanians, the Swiss, the Finnish, the people from Sealand (?) or any other country I mention in this little ficlet.**

_**********Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a disclaimer: **_**********I don't own Hetalia.**

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**********Land of the Engs**

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"Yo, England... I've been thinkin' 'bout something for a while now, and I was wondering... Well, what the hell's an 'Eng'?"

England looked at America through heavy brows, which were presently furrowed in a frown. "Come again?"

"An 'Eng'!" repeated America insistently. "'Cause apparantly, you're full of 'em!"

"In what world are you liv-" England paused. "Wait. Are you referring to my name, by any chance?"

Head bobbing up and down in an enthusiastic nod, America said, "Yeah! You're Eng-Land, right? The land of the Engs! But dude, it's not a very good name, 'cause, uh... no one knows what an 'Eng' is."

"...You are an utter dimwit."

From a little further up the table, there was a dark cough. "England, America," growled Germany. "Is this really the thing to be discussing at a vorld meeting?"

"Well, yeah!" said America. "I'd say that this was a matter of serious importance, dude! I mean, our buddy England might have totally got a crazy name! What'll we do then?"

America looked so genuinely worried that England almost smiled. "Really, America, you're being ridiculous. The 'Eng' in my name is derived from 'Angles'-"

"I never knew you were into math!"

"Angles as in Anglo-Saxon people, dolt!"

Shaking his head, Germany wondered if he should just let them argue. Working with the Allies was, at times, truly worse than dealing with Italy. But before he could decide, Poland interrupted.

"Um, not to be, like, rude, but this totally isn't what I came to talk about today!" He twirled a lock of hair in his fingertips and looked to Lithuania for back-up. "Right, Liet?"

The Baltic state started, looking nervously towards Russia, who was on his other side. "...Right."

"Er, well - yes, sorry." England cleared his throat, embarrassed. America too fell silent, but it wasn't long before his eyes went wide and he gasped, staring at Poland.

Unnerved, Poland straightened his skirt and leaned towards Lithuania. "Liet, can you, like, switch with me? America's totally creeping me out."

Lithuania nodded fervently. "Gladly," he said, and shot straight into Poland's empty seat, leaning as far as he could away from Russia.

However, America was not to be deterred, and he lifted a shaking finger to point at Poland. "It's spreading!" he cried, quite panicked. "It's spreading! Land of the Po, yo! I mean, what? That's totally not normal!"

"Like, Po?" said Poland, looking quite affronted. "Well, like, a Po is..." He trailed off.

There was a significant silence as each nation unwittingly pictured a small red Teletubby.

Then Liechtenstein tugged on Switzerland's arm. "Big brudder, what's a Switzer?"

"It's an out-of-date term for the Swiss, derived from _Suittes_, with reference to _suedan_, which means to burn, as in the area that was chopped and burned to create my land," replied Switzerland quietly. He looked at Liechtenstein seriously. "Now don't get involved with America's stupidity, okay?"

"Okay," replied Liechtenstein, satisfied, while everyone else at the table looked on blankly.

"...Bloody hell," muttered England.

Meanwhile, America was entering a state of advanced frenzy. "It still makes no sense!" he cried. "Seriously, why can't you guys all just speak in plain American? Eng, Po, Switzer..." He looked around wildly - his gaze settled on Finland. "You're not much better, dude! Land of the Fins? That so freakin' stupid! What are you, a fish or something?"

Before Finland could do any more than look baffled, Germany stood up. He had had enough. "Somevun restrain America," he ordered.

America stopped. "Whaaaaat? Not cool!"

"If you cannot behave like a proper nation, then do not expect that you vill be treated as such," Germany thundered, rubbing his temples.

"But dude! It just confuses the holy hell outta me!" America whined.

"Honestly, America, stop acting like such a halfwit." England tried to calm him by putting a hand on his shoulder, but America shook it off sulkily.

"I don't think I wanna talk to you, Eng-Land."

"Me too, oh, me too!" piped up a tiny voice. It was Sealand, and he looked very excited. "I'm Land of the Sea! That makes me like you, right, Uncle England? We're both Lands, which means I must be a nation...!"

England regarded the eager little micronation with a mixture of contempt and irritation. "Not really, I'm afraid, and besides, Land of the Sea actually makes some kind of sense- HOLD ON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT A WORLD MEETING? GO HOME!"

"So, big brudder..." Liechtenstein spoke up once again. "Are you saying that you are the Land of the People who Burned Wood to Make Some Land?"

"Finland, Finland, are you really a Land of the Fish?" asked Denmark, laughing.

"Liet, Liet! Like, tell me I'm not a Teletubby! Liet, I'm not a Teletubby, right?"

"...NONSENSICAL, DUDE! TOTALLY NONSENSICAL!"

Germany put his face in his hands. "For the love of Wurst..."

At the other end of the table, Iceland let his puffin crawl silently onto his head. He thought he'd probably better not say anything.


End file.
